


bluebells for the soul

by peachsneakers



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Cuddling, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Loceit - Freeform, M/M, Me? Project on Deceit?, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, it's more likely than you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-26 17:31:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21377866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers
Summary: Deceit wishes that he was better at lying to himself.
Relationships: Logic | Logan Sanders/Deceit Sanders
Comments: 53
Kudos: 230





	1. cognitive distortions

Deceit swallows hard, looking at the bloodied petals cupped in his gloved hands. His throat burns like an open wound. He knows what they mean, he's not stupid. He's spent enough time on the Internet to know the symptoms of Hanahaki Disease when he sees them. He just doesn't understand _why_.

And if the color of the dark blue petals means anything, he can't fathom anything _there_ either. He should hate Logan. Certainly the logical side must despise _him_. After all, he's the one who deliberately kept Logan out of the courtroom scene, knowing what it would mean to him. The others have slowly started to warm up to his continued presence, but he knows all they do is tolerate him. 

'Tolerate' does not mean 'love' and love is what he needs, if he wants to survive. He can't bear the thought of surgery, even if he could find someone to perform it. (He deliberately does not think of asking Remus to come anywhere near him with something sharp and pointy.) If it remains unrequited, well...

Perhaps it would be better for Thomas in the end. He wants to cling to the idea of being a honest person so badly? Let him have it. Deceit knows the thought should abhor him, yet the bloody flowers nestled between his fingers make everything feel-

He doesn't know. And that should frighten him, but it doesn't. He knows that much.

He looks up. He can hear the sounds of the others, the sound of the TV mingling with muffled laughter and chatter. He's never felt quite as alone as he does in that moment, coughing up blood and flower petals in the tomb-like stillness of his own room.

No more. Deceit rises with renewed purpose, striding into his attached bathroom and tossing the bloody petals into the garbage. He rummages through the medicine cabinet, pulling out bottle after bottle that Thomas has taken in the past. If he's going to die, then he wants to die on his own terms. None of that rot, wasting away as flowers slowly fill his lungs. If he must die, then _he's_ going to choose the method.

_What are you doing?_ His own sense of caution screams at him, but he ignores it as he settles on the edge of his bed, summoning a glass of water, the better to wash everything down.

The pills taste like chalk dust against his tongue. He makes a face at the grit, resisting the urge to scrub his mouth clean. That isn't the point right now. Besides, he won't have to care about anything so mundane as the gritty feeling of pills soon. 

He slumps back on his bed, his eyes fluttering in an unconscious struggle to stay awake. Another tickle assaults his throat and he coughs harshly, bringing up another handful of blood-soaked flower petals. He lets them fall where they may, wondering if anyone will be able to put the pieces together. If they'll even find him before his room vanishes. It must when he's dead, won't it? He doesn't see why it would linger. Why _he_ would linger.

The world fuzzes around the edges. He lets the pill bottle drop out of his hand, hearing it bounce and clatter on the floor. The sound is abrasive and loud to his over-sensitized ears, but he knows that no one else will hear it.

_I'm sorry, Logan,_ he thinks, as everything starts to go dark. _I wish it could have been different._

The last thing he hears is someone calling his name, and a determined thump on the door.


	2. sugar sweet

Pain wakes him. He coughs, choking on the flower petals clogging his throat, until hands descend on his shoulder, pushing and prodding him to his side, so he doesn't suffocate. Once the coughing spasm passes, Deceit lies there, limp and passive, his mind groggily trying to catch up.

When memory finally descends like a flash of lightning, he freezes, suddenly terrified to open his eyes. The last thing he remembers is swallowing a handful of pills. It should have worked. Why didn't it work?

"Patton found you," Logan says above him, as if he knows Deceit's inner turmoil. "He wanted to- to ask you to join us." Logan's voice cracks and Deceit wants to die a thousand times over for putting that note of misery in Logan's voice. For making _Patton_ see him, pallid and bloodied.

"'m sorry," Deceit croaks out, his voice cracking.

"What are you sorry for?" Logan asks. Deceit isn't sure how to answer. Somehow he doesn't think "for failing" is going to be an acceptable answer.

"Hurting Patton," he settles on instead, and feels Logan's cool fingers comb through his hair.

"You didn't hurt Patton," Logan says. "Not the way that you seem to be thinking. And I know that isn't what you wanted to apologize for. Try again."

"For failing," Deceit mumbles, too exhausted to lie.

"I'm glad that you failed," Logan admits. Deceit's not too tired to ignore the tiny spark of hope, bursting to life deep within his lungs. "How long have you had Hanahaki Disease, Deceit?"

"Days," he says hoarsely.

"If your love is truly unrequited, could you not have tried the surgery?" Logan asks. Deceit closes his eyes, too wounded by the irony to do so much as laugh. But doesn't it just figure, he thinks. Doesn't it figure that _Logan_ would be the one asking?

"I'd rather not let Remus anywhere near me with something sharp," Deceit says carefully. "And I did not want Roman, Patton, or Virgil to know."

"What about me?" Logan asks. "I could have performed it-"

"Oh, come off it," Deceit bursts out, surging into a sitting position and bending over double with the force of a new coughing fit. His hands fill with blood-smeared dark blue petals and he shoves them Logan's way, ignoring the other side's automatic recoil. "Who do you think it's _for_?"

"Me?" Logan whispers in disbelief. "But you- I- it can't be-"

"And yet it is," Deceit hisses. He hangs his head in shame, his face burning. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap, I- if you are willing to do the surgery-"

"No," Logan says, determined. "I'm not."

Deceit's head snaps up in dismay, just as Logan's hand comes around the base of his skull, cradling his head.

"I can't," Logan says. "Because your love is not unrequited. And unless you tell me otherwise, I am going to kiss you. Is that all right?" Dazed, Deceit nods, and is rewarded by the gentle press of Logan's lips against his own. The taste of blood disappears like it's never been and white light bursts to life behind his closed eyelids. His lungs hurt for one brief, heartstopping moment, before he _knows_, with utmost certainty, that the flowers that choked him have evaporated.

Logan slowly lifts his head, a sweet smile spreading across his face.

"Oh, Dee," he whispers. "Do you mind if I call you Dee?"

"Call me whatever you like," Deceit answers. "I'll respond to anything if you kiss me like _that_." Logan laughs, a trifle shaky, as his fingers bury themselves in the soft curls of Deceit's hair.

"I find myself more glad than I can express that the others had me stand watch over you," Logan confesses. "_Do_ you feel all right?"

"I do now," Deceit says. He coaxes Logan closer, basking in the logical side's warmth.

"I love you," Deceit says quickly, as if he can't bear not to say the words.

"I love you, too," Logan says. "I didn't know that I was capable of that emotion, until I met you." Deceit's tongue creeps out, in a happy blep. Logan smiles fondly at the sight.

"You blep," Logan says. "Now I have to love you even more."

"I'm fine with this, I hope you know," Deceit says. "You're stuck with me."

"Oh no, whatever shall I do?" Logan deadpans.

"Kiss me some more," Deceit says. And Logan does.


End file.
